The snag in this business
by SHEEP Next 1200Km
Summary: Written for the incredibly cheesy prompt 'Falling in love'. They meet in a dream, not when they were introduced. Slash.


The first time Arthur meets Eames is not the first time they are introduced. In fact, Arthur has tried his damnedest to blank out the very first – _mortifying_ – contact they made, but Eames is ever determined to keep reminding him.

Arthur had taken quite a few jobs with Eames before he felt he actually knew him (one such occasion that immediately comes to the forefront of Arthur's mind is when they were extracting from a Frenchman and Dom had forgotten where he was, took Mal's hands within his own, had said something that made Arthur horribly awkward, like 'falling in love is not when you sleep together, but when you share the same dreams' and Eames' dryly quipped that the romantic sentiment was lost somewhat when one shares his dreams with four other men as well).

They had actually taken many jobs together, filled with mocking and arguing and Arthur wanting to punch him in the face again.

It was only after the fourth, fifth or maybe sixth extraction that Arthur, with certainty, could claim that he had met the infamous Eames, in a stationery closet in an office block, hiding from projections that had sharp suits and aims.

The closet had been spacious for a closet, but still rather cramped in comparison to a room, meaning that it was pushing it for two grown men. And in the small, poky closet, awkwardly close, two men started to speak.

Small talk began with Eames commenting on the weather in a way only Englishmen can pull off. But after a while, conversation picked up, and turned personal, and revealing.

Arthur discovered Eames' favourite forges, like Carlotta, Timmy Winchester and Mr. Singh. He discovered the stories behind them and the development into the individuals, like how Eames spells it 'Sing' not because his spelling was crap, but because Eames feels the character deserves something beautiful. Arthur discovered that Eames' hardest forge was when he impersonated a projection to fool a mark who had been trained in dreamsharing.

He told Eames so many scarily private things in return, and the truth was so sweet it burned on his tongue.

Hours later, music sounded, and yells broke through the door of their tiny sanctuary. They looked at each other as they stood up, producing guns.

"You know," Arthur said, smirking at Eames, "I know far too much about you - we've barely met."

"Barely met?" Eames asked, curious and amused.

"Yeah, I mean, I've never even seen you use a gun." The reply held a challenge that both knew wouldn't be backed away from.

They barged through the door, crouching behind a desk they upturned for cover. Gunfire sang around them, and they scrunched up against each other behind a table. The Brit cocked his gun.

"Arthur? I think it's about time we met."

Bullets nailed into the mark's subconscious with alarming accuracy, and Eames' face, engulfed by a Cheshire Cat grin (and it's terribly contagious), suavely whispered _Hi, I'm Eames_.

After, when all that remained intact was them, Arthur threw down his gun as he kicked a projection out of the way, wiped his slightly sweat palm on his trouser leg before sticking it out to Eames. "Pleasure."

It was only then, after a crowded closest and a shared massacre of projections, that whenever anyone in the business asked if he knew the forger Eames, there was not a glimmer of hesitation when he would simply reply 'Yes'.

Except that recently, Eames sends these playful little looks to Arthur. Recently, he makes more euphemistic jabs. Recently, he always seems to be _there_ and it makes Arthur think that perhaps he doesn't know Eames at all.

Except that recently, Arthur has been throwing flirtatious looks back; has _initiated_ teasing banter; has even missed the thief when he wasn't _there_. Except that recently, he doesn't feel as if he knows himself anymore.

And they're running from militant projections; running towards the sea from the fake costal resort they've dreamt up, firing blindly over their shoulders. They laugh manically at each other, the thrill of the battle humming through their muscles

And they're running towards the sea on a _cliff_, and the edge frighteningly seems to be running towards _them_.

They're reaching the brink, and Eames looks over at Arthur (whose heart is whirring like the bullets he fires), and asks 'Fall with me?' and Arthur thinks that of all the trillions and trillions of words he could have said, he chose those three.

Because of all the various combinations of those words, he chose the one combination that was a request that Arthur couldn't help but fulfil.

Because before his foot touches the verge, before they're jumping and whooping and freefalling – before all that, Arthur cannot help but acknowledge _I already did_.


End file.
